#rose was able to bring him to safety?

[ihatechosingnames]

After the end of Gotham War, where we were left with Batman being at his worst, leaving the family to Dick (a better choice but wtf Bruce, you are leaving *YOUR* children) and with a Red Hood incapable to fight (not if the Joker has anything to say about it), I kept reading Batman (2016) and I'm regretting it so much.

Till the fight with Zurr I was able to follow, but when it started to get to Joker Year One I wasn't able to follow the story. I know, it still one chapter, but the premise is strange.

Bruce did create a mess with Zurr and yet he has never thought "it was such a bad idea". I know that in the middle of the fight it was a bit too much, but between the end of Gotham War and Batman searching for the Joker have passed weeks. He could have fixed the problem with Zurr in the meantime but no.

At this point I don't know if Batman can still be regarded as a hero, he definitely doesn't do anything as a hero or anything as a vigilante since he is hunting the Joker.

At the same time I have read the new Red Hood comic and I'm once again disappointed, since he doesn't pick up from the last time we have seen him (gasping for air after Rose fished him), but it sets way before.

I have the feeling that once again the writers are going to brush away the fact that Bruce did an horrible thing to one of his children without consequences.

[wordstome]

kosovo maiden (könig x reader)

Well, I did it again, gang. I wrote another story based on a painting. This one is by Uroš Predić in 1919, and was posted to Tumblr here (thanks to arcana-imperii for posting!)

I don't know anything about Kosovo, so the reader here isn't explicitly Serbian ;; please forgive me. Also, apologies for possibly inaccurate ambiguously late-1800s setting, medical information or German. Please enjoy!

2.2k words

There are soldiers in the field.

You heard the sounds of battle early in the dawn, the piercing explosions of gunfire and cannons ringing out as the sun rose. You weren’t concerned at first: it was far enough away that you felt safe enough to carry on as usual. But the gunfire drew closer and closer, and by noon you could hear the shouting and the battle cries, driving you trembling into your attic with terror. Mercifully, the fighting peters out as the sun sinks lower in the sky, but when you finally work up the nerve to peek out of your window, you find to your horror that the grassy field adjacent to your humble little home is littered with the bodies of dead and dying men.

Without a single further thought to your own safety, you grab a lantern and a pitcher of water and rush into the night.

It’s awful. Most of the men left behind are already cold, some whose eyes you have to shut yourself. The ones who were able to be saved were likely evacuated by their comrades, so the only ones left to face the cruel nighttime are the ones who won’t see the morning after. A few are still conscious when you find them, but you have little more to offer them than a gentle touch and one last drink of water. Their eyes are what will haunt you most after today: slick with tears as grown men weep, all semblance of courage and proud masculinity stripped from them as they face down their imminent demise. It’s terrible, heart-wrenching, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’re the only living thing left that can offer them comfort in their last moments.

The jug of water dangles from your hand as you trudge through the field, looking for anyone at all that you can provide help to. You’ve long abandoned any hope of finding someone you can save when you come across him: the giant in the grass.

It’s well and truly nighttime at that point, your lamp the only source of light upon what seems like a sea of human misery. The light hits his face, and you gasp. Your first thought is of how huge he is, at least 200 centimeters if he were standing. Your second thought is of how handsome he is…

You jolt to attention as he shifts and groans. He’s alive! Shaking some sense into yourself, you don’t hesitate to rush to his side. Your hands roam across his body, assessing the severity of his injuries. To your surprise, he doesn’t seem to be mortally injured. They’re severe, to be sure—he won’t be able-bodied for weeks. But he’s far from at death’s door, only confused and dazed…had his comrades only left him due to his sheer size?

Using your hand to support the back of his head and neck, you tip some water into his mouth in an attempt to revive him. The man cracks an eye open, regarding you with feverish wonder.

“Ein Engel…” he murmurs. You’re too elated that he’s alive, so you don’t actually properly hear what he said. With light, deft fingers, you tear strips of his tattered shirt and use the cloth to wrap up a scrape on his arm and stem the flow of a very nasty-looking wound up along the broad plane of his torso. To your alarm, however, the man seems to slump, his head laying back as if he’s about to lose consciousness.

“No, no,” you cry in panic, shaking him without heed of his injuries. “Sir, you cannot sleep here, I am unable to carry you…you will die out here!”

He mumbles something inaudible, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn’t passed out on you yet, but you have to act quickly to properly care for his wounds. You shift your body so you can maneuver his uninjured arm onto your shoulders. Luckily, he seems to comprehend what you’re trying to do, and manages to stumble to his feet while leaning his weight on you.

It’s an awkward, fumbling dance, considering your earlier assessment of his height was correct—he’s a huge man, and his torso alone nearly dwarfs your entire figure. But with a good measure of patience, you manage to get him moving towards your house. It’s high time you returned home, as well: your stomach roils as you remember what happens to corpses left outside for scavengers to find.

The two of you stumble through the doorway of your home, you murmuring soft affirmations and encouragement to the man. He makes no indication that he understands what you’re saying, but he’s nodding along, responding to your gentle tone. You guide him to lay on your bed, his body visibly relaxing as he sinks into the mattress.

You bustle around, lighting candles, stoking your fireplace, and rummaging around for medical supplies. You return to him with a basin of warm water, a cloth, and some bandages—before stopping dead in your tracks.

In the low lamplight out in the field, you hadn’t noticed the color of the man’s uniform, much too preoccupied with his signs of life. But now the truth is laid bare in front of you as you take in his attire, eyes traveling over his broad body—

You’ve just taken in an enemy soldier.

The man has seemingly fallen asleep, likely exhausted by the battle and the effort it took to get into your home. That does nothing to assuage your fear, though: what are you going to do if he passes away right in your bed? Even worse, what are you going to do if he wakes? Will he be hostile? Will he attempt to take you as a hostage to secure safe passage out of his enemy’s territory?

It's clear to you, though, that if you don’t help this man, he will die. His wounds could easily turn septic, and then he’s a goner. You steel yourself and approach him, kneeling at his bedside.

You work slowly and carefully to reveal his injuries, wincing when they’re completely exposed. He’s no longer bleeding profusely, but he will absolutely need stitches. For now, you settle for cleaning them with a damp cloth, trying to keep infection at bay.

He must be well and truly knocked out, because he doesn’t even stir as you wrap his arm securely with clean bandages. You’re much more hesitant to deal with his chest wound: if he wakes and struggles, he could make it much worse. But his unconscious state affords you the best opportunity to stitch him up…

You furrow your brow and go to find a needle.

You’re awoken by a gentle touch on the shoulder.

You stir from your sleep, wondering what your mother could possibly want at such an early hour. At least she put the fire on—you can hear the crackling. But why is your bed so hard? Did you fall asleep on the floor? Actually, now that you think about it, you do recall dozing off on your sheepskin rug last night, because—

Your eyes shoot open to see a huge, hulking figure standing over you.

The soldier startles when you scream, scrambling to move away from him. He cuts an intimidating figure in the early morning light: he towers over you in a state of undress, the bandages you put on him last night splotched with rusty dried blood. But you calm down as you realize he means you no harm, his hands outstretched in front of him as a show of peace: no weapons.

“Wo bin ich?” he asks. You squint at him. That sounds like German, but you can’t speak a word of it.

“I don’t speak German,” you try. He tilts his head, looking as puzzled as you feel right now.

“Never mind all of that,” you say, shaking your head and pushing yourself to your feet. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” The soldier watches with amusement as you press your hands against him, careful to avoid touching his chest where you know his wound lies, in an attempt to get him back into bed. He allows you to do so, lying back down like an obedient dog.

“Muste pissen,” he murmurs as you fuss over him. You shoot him another confused look as you check the stitches you put in his chest wound. All seems well, you note with relief.

“What?”

He huffs a sigh. He gestures towards the door, and then then to his…oh.

“I see,” you say, cheeks feeling hot. You can’t bear to look at his face, but when you do, you find he’s watching you with amusement.

You tap his chest with a finger, then mime a sewing motion. “Don’t get up on your own from now on, you could tear your stitches,” you tell him, pointing to the door and then to patting your own chest. “I’ll help you.”

He snorts, but nods. You start to unfurl the bandages on his arm, heart twinging with sympathy as he grits his teeth in pain. You bite your lip in chagrin as the wound is revealed. It was much less severe than the one on his chest, but it’s doing much worse: pus and fluids are leaking everywhere, and to your horror, you think some parts of the torn flesh might actually be turning green.

“Es sieht schlecht aus?” he asks, concerned. You put on a smile you hope is comforting and rise from his bedside to go downstairs and rummage through your cupboards.

You return to him holding a bottle of liquor, the strongest you could find. He seems to realize what you intend to do, and shifts slightly to allow you better access to his arm.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him. “This is going to hurt.” Without further warning, you dump a good amount of alcohol on his wound.

“SCHEIẞE!” The bellow of pain that rips out of his throat seems to shake the very foundations of your home. You wince as he hollers and lays back heavy against your poor little bed, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. That can’t have been pleasant…

“Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen,” he grits. You give him a sympathetic little pat before withdrawing to get the bandages.

He’s calmed down by the time you return to him. He watches you curiously as you wrap him up nice and snug, then turn your attentions to his chest wound. The stitches are still in place—it seems he was careful when he relieved himself—but you still need to clean and dress the wound. He lets out a sigh of relief when you opt for a clean cloth to dab away the dried blood instead of the liquor bottle.

You work quickly and efficiently, worried about him catching a cold with his chest out like this. You also can’t deny that the whole situation is starting to make you a bit shy—a foreign man, and an attractive one at that, is in your bed, shirtless, and you’re all but sprawled out on top of him to get up close to his injury. By the time you’re done, you’re fully blushing at the closeness of the contact between the two of you.

“You should be alright, it’s a good sign that you lasted through the night and haven’t developed a fever yet,” you tell him as you gather up the soiled bandages to be washed. “You’ll need to stay in bed so I can keep an eye on you—”

You’re drawn up short when you look up to see his face. Far from the angry scowl he wore when you disinfected his wound, his expression now is almost…admiring? You shift slightly, caught off guard by the adoration in this stranger’s stare, and your arm brushes against something solid and warm.

You stand up as if burned, turning to see what you just touched. To your chagrin, you find that the soldier is…well, he’s hard.

You whirl around to fix him with an outraged look, but he only laughs at you with obvious delight. What a pervert! You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do or where to look, but you’re stopped by the sensation of him reaching up and pressing a hand to your face.

You stare at him, wide-eyed, as he strokes your cheek with a sort of reverence that stops you in your tracks. “Mein Retter…” he murmurs. “Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders.”

You huff, recognizing that he’s trying to apologize. “You don’t act like an injured man at all,” you complain. A spark of mirth comes into his eye at your pouting tone as he just chuckles at you. You turn to walk away, yelping when you feel his hand brush against your bottom. You shoot him with a deadly look as he laughs again.

You scurry away, feeling awkward and hot all over. You had been so concerned last night about whether you should stay in the same house as the potentially dangerous soldier, pacing the floor and biting your nails as you pondered whether you should give him up to the local authorities. In hindsight, you’re glad you didn’t—they would surely have locked him in a cold cell with nobody to look after that festering gash on his shoulder, to say nothing of his chest wound. It was worth it to risk waking up to a man angry and spitting hatred at you, if you could save his life.

But now you’re realizing that you hadn’t considered the opposite possibility: that the soldier might like you a little too much.

ein Engel = an angel Wo bin ich? = Where am I? Muste pissen = had to piss Es sieht schlecht aus? = Is it bad? Scheiße = shit Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen = That hurt worse than getting the damn wound in the first place Mein Retter = my savior Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders = I'm sorry. I couldn't help it

Once more, I wrote this in a frenzy akin to being possessed, so it's a little short. But there will definitely be more! Thank you for reading <3

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely

[writethrough]

Please I am craving a Billy request that is just mindless fluff about you noticing how his eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles or how his chains get tangled sometimes or how he is actually a soft person on the inside who’s never been able to fully express himself and how beautiful his genuine smile is that you hardly get to see and anything and everything in between (your writing is so dreamy and beautiful how how you write Billy is so 😍😩🫶🏻)

Found You

(Billy Hargrove x Gender Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: You give Billy what he's always needed.

Warnings: So fluffy you could suffocate.

Word Count: 513

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this in! (And for the lovely compliment!) I hope you don't mind, but I wrote this in the same way I did Sun Daze and Morning Blue. It's short, but (I think) super sweet.

He comes alive when he smiles. 

Not the smirks he throws with the cocky click of his tongue, or the slow pull of his mouth that reveals his teeth one by one, like a predator. 

His real smile. The one that crinkles his eyes and scrunches his nose and pulls you in until you’re so close you feel everything. The mint from his gum, the sun baked into his skin, his hands holding your hips, and the softness of his kiss. 

He steals your breath every time. You’ve always been the first to retreat to take in more, and he’ll relent for a few moments, busying himself with those teeth dragging along your neck or his lips gliding from the corner of yours to your ear. He's fed up with waiting when he nips whatever flesh is in front of him before returning to claim the artificial watermelon from your mouth. 

You’d do just about anything to keep him smiling. To pull his laughter from deep within his gut and have it play like music. 

He didn’t laugh much when you first met. Unless it was that taunting one you didn’t like, the one he forced out like armor. 

You still remember the first time you made him laugh out of pure joy. He said he didn’t know the last time that happened. And you made a silent promise to bring it out of him as much as you could. 

He has such capacity for all of it. Laughter...joy...happiness...he just needed someone to help him find it. 

And he does. 

He finds it in the sound of your voice, even when you’re mad at him. It’s different. You’re mad at him because you care, because you love him and want what’s best for him. 

He finds it in your eyes, that burning fire that ignites just for him. The way he touches you. The way he speaks softly, just for you—because of you. The way he strips off his shirt and pulls you flush to him just to see that fire turn into an inferno. 

Then there’s the way you touch him. Not with hate or anger, but like he will break. Your fingers graze his forearms, up to his shoulders, and wind around his neck just to hold him—just because you want to. 

You press kisses into his shoulder as the shower cools, your front to his back because it’s getting cold and he’s so warm. You make it beneath the covers, and he drapes himself over you, face shoved into your neck while you rub his back, following the dip of his spine from top to bottom. And if you’re feeling a certain way, you’d give a little pat. And he responds with a suck. 

Infectious. 

That’s the only way you can describe him. 

He pulled you into his orbit and you’ve never been the same. 

He gives you trust. And you give him safety. 

So, when you say you love his smile, that his laugh is your favorite sound. 

His response, every time is: 

It’s because of you. 

Taglist: @periwinkle-quill, @steph-speaks, @bookshelf-dust, @nix-rose, @realmermaidariel, @eddiesdruid

If you'd liked tagged in future fics, comment or message me!

(Not sure why two tags won't work. Hopefully, you both see this/are magically notified.)

[sh1-n0bu]

dan heng, Dan heng IL (hsr, romantic)

Dan heng received a mysterious mail. The letter was cased in a beautiful elegant white and gold envelope. The envelope is decorated with small real golden roses and gold stripes decorating the sides of the envelope. The effort can be seen on the envelope alone about how.. How much emotion is put into this letter.

The letter itself is nothing short of elegance, the hand writing is.. Uniquely familiar to dan heng for some reason. But he couldn't tell why. The letter was unsigned and it is fully unknown who the sender is and how it arrived here.

My dearest dragon,

I wish to be able to stand by your side.. Though you may not remember me, no, i know that you don't remember be, but alas i am indeed was once, and is still, you, your past self's, imbibitor lunae's husband. His "mate" If you will.

My heart broke when i heard the news that he was sent to the shackling prison for a forced rebirth. And it broke even more when i heard that he, well, you, will be banished from the luofu. It has been decades, yet i still wish to be able to see you again. To be able to hold my, was once, lover again.

You don't know how happy- no, ecstatic i was when i accidentally saw you in the devine commission. You looked different, but also the same at the same time. I know it's you, dan feng. We were once, and is still bonded. I wanted to approach you, to hug you, to hold you again. But i hesitated, fearing that i might just be hallucinating. Or that you might no even remember me.

The latter was confirmed when you just asked me for directions, seemingly not recognizing who i am. It broke me deeply, but i do not wish to bring my burdens of the past over to you.

Therefore with this letter, this will be my final and last words dedicated to you. Dedicated to my, was once, lover.

my most beautiful sun.. I wish to be able to hold you again.

𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜! 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙪’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚!

to: dan heng from honkai star rail

the events at the xianzhou luofu was certainly draining to the astral express crew. if not, more so to certain someone of the crew than the rest simply because it brought back so many old and unfamiliar memories to him. unfamiliar memories, feelings and emotions rushing through him with so much vigor, ones that doesn’t even belonged to him but to someone else entirely. so it would be safe to say that dan heng wanted nothing to do with his past reincarnation and his feelings and memories.

but you can’t just get what you wish for, right?

even after coming back to the familiar warmth of the express and its surroundings, accompanied by the feeling of safety his companions bring, dan heng was still restless. there was this… odd feeling inside him. as if something had been awakened and was begging to be let out for an inkling of a moment ever since he asked a stranger with an eerily familiar face about directions on the xianzhou.

he tried to escape the weird feeling of deja vu by sleeping yet it only served to bring more torment rather than rest that he so desperately seek. in his dreams, he would see his past self — dan feng, with the old familiar faces that he always sees.

there’s the foxian woman — bright, cheerful and full of life — jumping around, giggling at things and bringing forth joy to the group of five. there’s the light blue haired woman, whom he later on recognized as jingliu — cold as the element she wields and yet with a certain hint of warmth alongside it, sipping on wine from the small jade cup. there’s the arrogant blacksmith, yingxing and the former self of blade before he was tainted by mara — laughing along with his friends, pointing a few fingers and saying a joke. there’s jing yuan — younger, more wild, rebellious and with a certain hints of cockiness that his current jaded self lacked.

and then there’s dan feng, his past reincarnation, the one who brought this suffering and pain onto him, the one who is refusing to let him live on, the one who is so cold and cruel and… huh? was he mistaken when counting? why had this group went from 5 to 6? who was this new face amongst the group?

this new face that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere in his dreams, or was it memories?, was kind and gentle yet carrying a hint of strength under it. seemingly a simple man at first glance but proving himself to be more with the way he carried himself. elegant, regal yet so humane. this new man approached dan feng, greeting his fellow friends and comrades with a few jokes and podding here and there as he reaches the former high elder. but when reaching the high elder, the two shared a kiss. the vidyadhara visibly softening, teal eyes staring at the man with hearts in his eyes as his tail wraps around the man’s ankle possessively.

ah, that explains it. they were lovers. or in vidyadhara terms, in dan feng’s eyes, his mate. his other half. the one he promised himself and his life to for the rest of his life. the soft teal colored mark of a dragon on the back of the man’s neck proved it.

seeing them, dan heng felt an odd emotion swirling in his chest. was he… jealous? but how could be jealous when he was dan heng and not his past self? he was dan heng, not dan feng and that man was not his mate. yet he still felt it. that annoying green monster swirling in his chest and refusing to leave. but his jealousy was at least slightly explained when he woke up that morning, with the strange letter on top of his currently reading book.

teal eyes skimming through the letter, taking in every word and syllable, rereading it over and over again, did he come to a conclusion. sudden and unexpected but the astral expressers accepted and supported his decision nonetheless.

“himeko, i need to visit the luofu for… a reason. there’s someone i would like to meet. again”

with that, the dragon set out to reunite with his husband. with his mate. just a single moment to clarify the person’s words on the letter — was what he was lying to himself about. when in truth, he knew that there was more to it. the dragon wanted to meet his husband again. the dragon wished to hold his mate again. dan heng, wanted to reunite with his lover again.

“and this time, nothing will tear us apart”

[writingoddess1125]

What do you do Dad?

Simon Riley + OOC Children

Support me on Ko-Fi!

Your children ask about their fathers job

Fluffy

It was days like this Simon lived for- Were he could just relax and let his guard down just a little.. enjoy time with his family and get a taste of domestic bliss- Seated on the sofa with his 5 year old triplets piled on him like he was a bed and they were all watching Bluey, You'd had him watch the litter while you picked up the dog Riley from the groomers.

Hazel was nestled on his left just under his arm and curled into his side- Rose sitting on his lap with her head on his chest and Johnny sitting in his right arm with his head tucked onto Simon's neck.

It was defiently a bit cramped for Simon's taste but he wasn't one to complain- Especially since it ment time with his kids watching cartoons all day and wiping boogers.

"Daddy?" Hazel voice cut through the man's thoughts, Simon humming in response as he waited for his daughters question.

"What do you do?" She asked, Simon confused by the question as he looked at Hazel who was staring up at him with big eyes.

"What do you mean Dove?"

"At your job when you go away? What do you do?" Hazel ask, Simon feeling a Sinking feeling in his chest at her question as he stared at the matching eyes before him. He had been dreading this day, he truly had and what made it worse was you not being there to help him- His mind flashing the horrors he had done, the smell of gunpowder seemingly filling his nose from nowhere and he felt like his mask was brushing against his face. The feeling of Ghost wrapping his fingers around his heart again and getting to close to comfort to his children- bringing fear into mouth.

Why did you have to go to pick up the Dog from the groomers today..

"I do a lot of things Bug.." He started, watching how she scrunched her face in mild irritation clearly able to tell he was dodging the real answer. The dodging made Rose look up and seem curious as well, Johnny shifting as well at feeling his father become uncomfortable. They were all too smart to let it go as well, He blamed you for that..-

Sitting up some more he gently pulled them from his sides and set them all on his lap facing him in order to listen equally.

"I work for the military, I'm a soldier- So my job is to help other people get to safety from bad guys" He worded the best he could, Hazel staring at her father as he said this and chewing over his words.

"How?" Johnny signed, For the first time that day wanting to 'speak' it seemed. Simon almost wishing that his Lad didn't ask.

"By fighting"

"It is, But remember how I've always said you should never hit first but if they hit you, it's okay? It's like that- They hit first and so they send me to hit back" He explained as carefully as possible.

Rose face twisted up at this, Surprised by his words. His little princess, a gentle soul who was sad by the idea of her father fighting.

"But fighting is bad- is that why you have booboos?" She said softly, Simon wincing at her words. He figured he'd hidden some of the scarier scars better so they didn't see them, Seemed not.

Simon waited for- something? His anxiety up and prepared for something negative...

But instead Hazel moved first, going right back to her spot happily.

"So You're like the hero people on TV right?" She seemed to reason, Simon nodding calmly as she settled back in. Seemingly satisfied with the answer and line of thinking- Johnny next moving back to his spot giving a thumbs up also in agreement. Rose being the last, Looking to her siblings and seeing them seemingly fine with what they had learned- So she returned as well and the trio went back to watching Cartoons.

Simon sat there, a bit shocked in truth. He'd expected more? But he was happy there wasnt... he knew they were way to young to truly understand what he did, but he preferred it that way.

A wash of peace falling over him once more and he settle back in for the cartoons. Ghost once again falling away and hidden from his precious family-

"I love you lot so much..."

[pixelmensupremacy]

Can I request a Leon x reader for RE4 remake? :0

Reader is one of the missing hikers that was mentioned during the opening cutscene and managed to escape the villagers just as she runs into Leon on his way to the lake. Leon has her come with him, even reader helping him keep Ashley safe, and during the whole mission, they start to develop feelings and Leon gets more protective. Can even be suggestive- especially during the chained scene if you want. 😳

A/N: Since I got one more request about this scene specifically I'll do a part two with the smut

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of violence, fem!reader, not proofread

part 2

Darkness was all (Y/N) could see as she took cover in the cool, shadowy tunnel, using its gloomy nooks to hide from the locals, whose inhumane rage almost caused her horrific doom. Her entire body shook, her heart thumped loudly in her ears as the adrenaline in her veins was still in abnormal amounts. Images of what she saw haunted her and even now she was safe she trembled in fear as the awful memories resurfaced, making it even harder for them to catch her breath. Sounds of footsteps caught her attention; tears formed in the corners of her reddened eyes; her breath hitched. The sound grew louder and soon after she was able to make out the silhouette of a man; frozen in fear, (Y/N) couldn’t move as the man was slowly nearing her. Her (E/C) irises were glued on him so much so she didn’t notice her foot was poking out of the safety of the shadows.

Carefully, her gaze followed his movements; her fisted rolled, taking a hold of any object that was underneath her. Her poor heart was on the verge of exploding; her chest rose and fell in an unnaturally quick pace as her breathing grew shallow. A yelp ripped past her lips at the sudden force hitting her foot; a thud echoed on her right. Cold sweat broke out on her skin; her eyes widened in utter horror as she was faced with the man and more importantly the barrel of his gun. In that split moment she surrendered to her fate; and at this exact moment the thought of a quick painless death was a blessing in comparison to the horrors she witnessed in the cruel village, the screams of the poor police man will forever be imprinted in her conscience. Yet the freeing moment she expected never arrived and instead of the gun she saw an inviting hand once she peeled her eyes open.

“Are you hurt?” She barely made out the words, for her anxiety driven mind was far too hazy for her to comprehend.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Her voice was quiet, her glassy eyes bore into his; his heart clenched, a smear of guilt weaved in his features.

Shouts anchored the attention of the two; dozens of villagers lurked about the end of the tunnel, the lights of their torches threw light on the barricade the two were hidden behind. Chills ran down her spine at the sound of sickles and hatches flying by her, she wasn’t ready to go through this, not again.

“You’ll have the time to thank me later.” The mysterious man took a hold of her hand and dragged her in the opposite direction.

“So, what brings you here?” (Y/N) spoke up breaking the unnerving silence.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He answered not even turning around to face her; she let out a deep sigh.

“Okay let me guess.” She tapped her chin, stimulating her logical thinking. “You definitely aren’t here on a vacation, judging by your… gear.” She paused as she observed the arsenal of weapons resting right on his back.

“Go on.” His foot stomped on a wooden box, demolishing it with just the force of his limb; impressed by his strength, (Y/N) fell silent as she looked at him with awe.

“Now’s my turn.” He turned around, finally facing her after the frenzy of running from villagers the two had gone through. “You’re a hiker, who got lost and now you’re here.” She was at loss of words, yet the puzzled, hurt look on her face didn’t fail to reflect the state of her heart.

“Are you a clairvoyant or what.” The mysterious man chuckled before e knelt down to pick up a box of what looked to be ammunition; the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed as he then stood up, the leather of his fingerless gloves tightened around his fist.

“Can I at least know the name of the guy that saved my ass.” She asked, in attempt to distract herself from the newfound subject of her interest. He turned to face her; the sunrays highlighted his features that she hasn’t had the time, nor opportunity to observe. His hair was a beautiful blond color, the strands of which appeared gold under the light of the setting sun; his jaw and cheekbones were defined and smooth as if he wasn’t a human being but rather a marble sculpture, carved by the most skillful of craftsmen. The irises of his eyes were a mixture of different cobalt blue hues each prettier than the previous, every shade made for a whirl of unreadable emotions that were contained deep within him, enhancing the intensity and mystery to him.

“Leon Kennedy.” Immediately, her attention was anchored to his full, silky-smooth lips and to the Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he spoke. “It’s rude to not introduce yourself, you know?” He looked her up and down, his gaze both judgmental and intrigued.

“It’s (Y/N).” Her gaze shied away from his prying one that ironically also drew her in with a strong invisible force.

“Okay, (Y/N) you’re gonna have to stick to me if you wanna make it through.” She nodded, not paying much attention to the words he spoke as she noted how her name sounded when he said it. She was screwed.

Together they explored their surroundings; before them there was a heavily damaged house, behind it’s gaping hole was another one that was intact. Driven by her intuition, she pointe the house to Leon and so they headed to it. The space was plain and fairly minimalistic with just a few pieces of furniture lying around, the color scheme of the room though was even more poor that the interior itself. Dust particles flew in the air as the slowly fell and clung to any surface that was already covered in thick layer of debris and filth. Continuing her venture inside, (Y/N) heard a strange sound; investigating it’s source she came along a darkened, narrow corridor above which was a ticking bomb. Immediately, she called out for Leon, who safely detonated it. Weirdly enough, the bomb wasn’t her found, for she noticed a ladder leading to what appeared to be basement.

“I’ll go check it out. You stay here.” Leon was quick to move past her, preventing her from entering the gaping dark opening.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not staying alone.” She protested; her arms crossed in front of her chest as she struck him with a stern look.

“Sure.” He sighed in defeat, he had no time for arguing. “Ladies first.” He jokingly pointed to the entrance; hesitantly, she gazed at the hole and then at Leon. The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly.

“Just as I thought.” He said before he jumped. Shocked, (Y/N) screamed his name only to be hear his chuckle- the one she couldn’t get enough of despite having only heard it only twice. She cursed as she got down after him; the lighthearted mood soon evaporated as they noticed a suspicious looking sack. Leon pointed his flashlight at the object and knelt before it; a piercing scream resonated from behind him. Swinging his gun in the air, he saw her trapped in the grasp of an atrociously tall man, dressed in black from head to toe. With no hesitation, the agent fired at the man, yet he seemed unphased; a powerful force hit him, causing him to fly across the room. Slowly, blackness took over his hazy vision as a sudden warmth embraced his head; (Y/N)’s screams of horror echoed in his head.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Treasure: Part 2

AN: I hope you guys like part 2 as much as part 1! Unfortunately I think I have the Stephen King curse and can't finish a story haha

Part One

It had not even been a few months since Geta had claimed you as his own, you shared his bed most nights but he let you roam the palace as you wished. You were treat like royalty as nobody else was allowed to touch you, a stipulation he brought in not long after you were brought before him. He had ordered the servants to decorate your arms in an intricate gold paint design every morning. It would complement his armour at the least but show that you belonged to him to anyone who saw you. The design served to show that you were to remain untouchable, a mental image that would drive Geta feral most days, knowing that you were his and his alone, only he could touch your precious skin and devour you. A thought that would flood his mind in many meetings he attended, much to the chagrin of his brother who wanted him present and ready, he didn't want to rule with him but he didn't want him pussy drunk on some woman of no consequence.

Every morning your arms were adorned with an intricate golden design, and most nights you came back to your quarters after your visit with him, your body paint now smudged within an inch of its life. Your maids always used to chuckle privately about the Emperor having Gold ink smeared on his face and hands on a nightly basis as they cleaned the smudged artwork from your body.

You eventually came to enjoy the golden artwork that was drawn upon your skin every morning, it was a tedious process but to you it meant safety. Your life could have been much worse than to be one of the Emperor’s prized toys in your mind, at least this way only his hands were allowed to grace your skin and you weren’t passed around the senate like some communal toy to enjoy, like so many girls were. You came to enjoy the Emperor’s touch after he claimed you, you expected him to be rough and take what he wanted, yet he was gentle and he touched you with pure reverence, as if he was worshipping a goddess every night, bringing you bliss like you had never felt before he claimed his own.

Weeks had passed, you were now very established as Geta’s property, it only took one guard touching you by accident and him losing his hand for it to really drive the message home. You were essentially given free reign of the palace, walking wherever you desire as long as you remained within it’s walls. As you made your weekly trip to the library your path crossed with his brother, Caracalla, you hadn’t seen him really since the day you attended the games all those weeks ago. He was surrounded by a host of his guards and friends, you looked down sheepishly, bowing before him politely and sought to avoid him in the hallway, until he came close and grabbed your arm tightly. “Look men, it’s Getas favourite whore!” He said through laughter, watching his guards return the laughter in a pained way, they were well aware of the consequences of touching you and stayed well away, avoiding your pleading gaze. He gave off the image that he was in a drunken stupor but in reality, he knew what he was doing, he relished the idea that Geta would see his handy work upon your body paint and send him into a frenzy. Caracalla laughed in your face and let go of your arm roughly causing you to crash against the wall as he and his host continued to walk away, a few of the guards gave you sad looks, as if they were anticipating Geta to take his fury out upon you. You looked down and knew that your body paint had been spoilt, a sickness rose in your stomach at this, you changed your course to head back to your room, hoping that one of your maids would be there and be able to reapply the paint for you before Geta saw.

As you made your way hastily back to your room you were summoned, this wasn’t like Geta to summon you at this time. You tried to plead with the guard to give you even a small amount of time but he was adamant that you were required now. You held your head high and prayed to every God you knew and even the ones you didn’t really know, hoping that Geta would be so clouded by lust or any emotion at this point that he wouldn’t take any notice of your smudged body paint.

As you walk into his room you see him lounged across the chaise lounge waiting for you, this was a sight you would normally enjoy if you were not so anxious to see him. Geta becomes aware of your presence, he begins to stand and stalk over to you, always treating you like you were his prey and his prize.“Ah, my precious treasure.” His voice laced with desire as he comes to stand in front of you. He takes a strand of your hair between his fingers and plays with it gently. “And here I was thinking my treasure had left me.” He teases playfully, his eyes roaming your body until his eyes cast down onto the arm that Caracalla manhandled. Geta’s eyes turn black with rage, you had never seen him so affected in this way, you had seen him angry and throwing pitchers of wine across the room in a fit of rage after war meetings but this was different.

“Who touched you?” Geta struggled to say through gritted teeth, barely holding onto the rage that was boiling inside of him. You swallowed the saliva that was threatening to spill from your mouth, wondering how it was possible for your mouth to go dry and over produce saliva at the same time, you looked up at him with pleading eyes for him to not question further. Suddenly you found his hand on your face, squeezing your cheeks hard so that your lips pursed forward, your eyes tearing up at the feeling of the metal of his rings digging into your soft flesh. Your face is pulled closer to his as he snarls at you, not sure whether his anger is at you or the perpetrator who touched your sacred flesh. “I said, who fucking touched you.” His eyes now ablaze with fury, spitting venom through gritted teeth, you really didn’t want to admit that it was Caracalla, you saw how they were together and you wanted to refrain from pouring more fuel onto an already out of control pyre. You sobbed softly, partly from how he was roughly squeezing your face and partly from the admission that was ready to spill from your lips. “It was your brother, my Emperor.” It came out as barely a whisper as a lone tear streaked down your face. You saw in Geta’s eyes the unbridled fury that clouded them, you were his, the one thing Caracalla couldn’t have but he tried to spoil you anyway. Geta’s hand fell from your face roughly and you stood there in shock in the middle of the room, barely able to process what was happening. You watched Geta collect his sword before he came back over you, his hand roughly grasped your face again before he kissed you in an aggressive yet desperate way. “I will remind him who you belong to, my treasure.” His voice shaking with fury as he breaks the kiss and storms out of the room. You stand there watching him walk away, wringing your hands and picking your nails through anxiety, praying that he sees reason or is stopped before he happens upon his brother, knowing that if he finds him, one of them won’t come out of this situation alive

[it-happened-one-fic]

Sparring Sessions - Silver

Author Notes: So.. this fic is a sort of odd one in a lot of ways. I guess you could say I was inspired by a line from Silver's P.E. uniform where he says something about how he thinks Prefect has talent with a sword. To be honest, this fic has just been sitting in my google docs gathering dust and occasionally getting workshopped for quite some time. I really didn't know what else to post this week, so this one ended up being the lucky fic. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ platonic or romantic

Word count: 1154

I panted slightly. Sliding backwards through the sand but not landing on my butt through sheer willpower and determination. From across the sandy sparring area, found in the shadow of Diasomnia’s dorm, Silver straightened. Ever calm and elegant.

 He didn’t look out of breath or the slightest bit worn out, despite the fact that I was struggling to even halfway keep up with his pace.

Why exactly had I agreed to learn swordplay from Silver? Because he’d certainly done a good job of marketing it. Good enough that I almost wanted to tell Azul he should think about hiring the young man if it wouldn’t bring quite so much trouble to Silver’s doorstep.

Nonetheless, Silver’s reasoning had been strong.

Swordplay would be a means by which I could defend myself and would ensure that I was better prepared for the next overblot, whenever and if another occurred. Additionally, I didn’t have magic and was likely to be taken advantage of. Being able to defend myself would lessen that risk too. 

Silver had also gotten Sebek on the case, who was more than happy to praise the virtues of learning swordplay. Citing it as a way to strengthen character as well as make me more capable.

All of that, plus a longing for something to do outside of Crowley’s many tasks and homework, had led me to this point. Determinedly sparring with Silver yet again, in an effort to beat him at least once.

Of course, before this point, there had been my lengthy training. Malleus and Lilia had both been delighted when I’d showed up asking to be trained, with Lilia even offering to be the one to teach me. 

It hadn’t been very long at all, though, before my prospective teacher had backpedaled out of his offers. And I’d been surprised, until I’d learned that Lilia had done this because Silver had, out of nowhere and to the utter delight of his father, stated that he had been planning on being the one to teach me.

And teach me he had. But Silver was not exactly a kind teacher. He wasn’t cruel by any means; far from it. But he also didn’t take it easy on me. And he pushed me hard. 

I’d come here to learn, and learn I would. My safety was dependent on it. But I was thankful for the way he pushed me. He didn’t coddle me, which was what I wanted. 

But, that said, it didn't make repetitively losing any more enjoyable.

I huffed slightly as Silver shifted, preparing to launch towards me and continue our little joust the moment it became clear that I wasn’t about to tumble over. 

His eyebrows rose at my frustrated expression, his single reaction before he darted forward at what ought to be inhuman speeds. Unfortunately, though, he was simply that fast.

 I’d learned that the hard way.

 Silver would never use magic against me. After all, he was chivalrous and fair, just a bit air-headed at times. However, that meant he only ever used his own innate, albeit trained, capabilities. Even if they seemed vaguely superhuman.

At the very least, I was beginning to understand exactly why Sebek was so frustrated by his seniors' skills. Even though I knew he’d had to train just as hard as anyone else, Silver’s proficiency was definitely kind of annoying.

I dodged to the side and whirled, launching myself at him. Because I knew perfectly well that this was my only chance to get him down. 

His eyes went wide as I collided with him, knocking him off balance and sending us both tumbling towards the hard ground.

And I could hardly believe my luck when his back hit the earth.

He let out a soft grunt just before I landed on top of him, my wooden sword pressing into the ground just next to him. I panted heavily, looking down with slight surprise at the similarly startled young man under me.

As shock wore away, I felt pride set in, and a pleased smile curled across my face, “Ha! I win.” 

I couldn’t help but teasingly gloat a little, and Silver’s wide-eyed surprise was soon replaced by a slight smile. And, for a brief moment, I genuinely believed that his smile was one of pride in the fact that his student finally won their first bout.

 In reality, though, it was anything but.

His hand curled around my wrist, and, with a sudden shove paired with a yank, I had been flipped over and forced onto my back. My wooden sword rolling pitifully away across the ground. 

It was my turn to stare wide-eyed up at the young man who now knelt above me, pale hair hanging around his face as he looked down at me.

 To make matters worse, one of his hands securely held my wrists pinned to the ground over my head, while the other held his wooden sword to my neck. There was no getting out of this one.

“Never proclaim your victory until it is sure.” Ever the teacher, even with that frustratingly charming, if small, smile still on his face.

For a brief second, I just stared up at him, shocked. And then I felt frustration well up within me.

I began to thrash around, attempting to break his grip or knock him off me, one. Neither happened, though.

Instead, Silver remained unmoved, looking down at me with that slight smile still playing on his face. His eyes gave away his amusement, though. Beautiful purple yet blue eyes gleaming down at me with barely concealed humor.

Normally such a sight was impossible to see, but I’d been getting better at reading Silver and his subtle expressions. It wasn’t that he didn’t get amusement from things; it was just that he had to keep himself calm or risk suddenly falling asleep.

I at last stopped, breathing heavily from exertion, and he tilted his head, ever-patient and not the slightest bit condescending, as he calmly questioned me, “Done?”

I huffed out a sigh, letting myself flop against the ground and turning my face away so that I was looking across the training area instead of up at him. Even then, though, I could still see him perfectly through my peripheral vision, “I yield.”

He nodded, his smile briefly reappearing as he shifted, got off me, and stood. He held out one hand, which I silently accepted, letting him pull me to my feet with ease.

He picked up my sword and watched silently as I brushed the sand off my gym uniform. I glanced over at him, waiting for him to speak, and he tilted his head, “Next Tuesday?”

The tell-tale glimmer in his eyes said everything, but I found myself grinning back at him because I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying our little sparring sessions, even if he was a beyond frustrating opponent, “You’re on.”

[quest-for-pluto]

Sparkles

Ao’nung x Human!Female!Reader

← Prev Chapter Index

Summary: You work as maintenance at base 36, a testing facility used for unethical experiments on captured local Na’vi. One day when the base’s power supply melts down and explodes, you’re caught in the flaming crossfire. In a split second decision, you also decide to free the panicking Na’vi in his glass cell.

Aged up!Aonung to 21 and reader is 20

Chapter 2: the giant blue alien in the room

You woke up to the pleasant feeling of burning agony, like you'd just skinny dipped in molten hot lava.

"G-guhhhh—" you choked out, fingers twitching and trembling against the floor as you struggled to gain some semblance of motor control. Tears burned your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You writhed violently on your side as wave after wave of excruciating, searing pain washed over you.

Breathe, you told yourself. Just breathe through it, Y/n.

That was a lot more difficult than it sounded, especially when all you could hear was a continuous, tortured scream in your head. Your nails scraped at the cold concrete that did nothing to cool you down, trying to grasp onto something for support but only finding air between your fingers.

Never had you experienced anything so intense and all-consuming in your life. On a scale of 'Oh shit, that was a spicy cheeto' to 'Fuck I think my face is melting off', you were probably at a respectable 'I want to amputate all of my limbs and live in a freezer for the rest of my life'. Your vision dimmed and blurred as you fought to stay awake.

It was a strangled choking sound that broke you slightly out of your delirium. Your head turned slowly to see a giant blue body not too far from you, the skin on his right arm and leg raised in a pattern of angry looking blisters, but that wasn't what caught your attention. It was the frantic wheezing sounds he was making, grabbing desperately at his throat.

Somewhere in your foggy mind it occurred to you that oh yeah, that's right, his kind were not meant to breathe in your air.

Get up, Y/n, you chided yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. You need to do something.

With all of the strength you could muster, you rolled over, your vision nearly going white from the blinding pain. Slowly you staggered to your feet, pausing as a wave of nausea washed over you.

You blinked through your titling vision, eyes scanning the room for a possible solution. The only thing you could see were the supplies you had originally found, although some of them were admittedly pretty burnt now. Rebreather masks would be useless to him as well. Shit.

That left only one option. You had to figure out how to bring the native air from outside into the room.

Your eyes rose to the two, tiny windows in the room, located way higher than you could reach. You knew that every single window in base 36 was mandated to be bulletproof, so the chances of you being able to break it were thin, but—you had to try.

Staggering to your pile of supplies, you dropped to your knees, hands frantically combing through the items until they closed around the handle of the rifle you had discovered earlier. You quickly snatched a rebreather mask from the floor and secured it on your face. With a shuddering breath, you aimed the barrel at the right window, flicking off the safety and hastily pulling the trigger.

Bang.

The bullet ricocheted off of the surface, imbedding itself into the wall just over your shoulder. You inhaled sharply, turning to blink at it in shock. That was...way too close.

By now, the Na'vi had given up clawing at his throat. He laid sprawled across the floor, eyes wide and terror-filled as his chest rose and fell rapidly in short, convulsing breaths.

Damn, damn, damn. He couldn't take much more of this.

"Don't worry," you articulated the best you could, which was probably a barely understandable slur. "I won't—I won't let you die."

With renewed determination, you lifted the barrel to aim at the window again. You pulled the trigger.

Bang.

"Ah, fuck!" You cried, stumbling backwards. The bullet had grazed your burnt arm. Damn that stung like a motherfucker.

You grabbed the wound, clenching your jaw as you put pressure on it. Warm, thick blood escaped from between your fingers, trickling down your skin in rivulets.

"Okay," you breathed to yourself, supporting your injured arm with your other hand. Your whole body trembled from the pulsing pain. "You can do this, come on."

You pulled the trigger.

With a cry, you dropped the gun, clutching onto your arm in pain from the recoil.

The bullet imbedded itself in the window. You panted, watching with wide eyes as cracks began to quickly spread from the point of impact.

It shattered, pieces of glass exploding outwards and clattering onto the floor. You lowered your gaze, sighing in relief.

Your eyes flickered to the trembling form to your left. He was in terrible shape, but he hadn't passed out yet. He would survive.

You sunk carelessly to your knees, hands pressing into the floor as you struggled to catch your breath. Was it you, or was it getting suffocatingly humid in here?

Wait.

You took a deep, experimental breath, horrified to find that it didn't quite fill your lungs. Your hands quickly shot up to your mask, grasping blindly until you froze, cold realization washing over you as your thumb ran over a noticeable crack.

No, no, no. You couldn't possible be this much of an idiot.

Except you were.

You'd forgotten to properly check your own oxygen supply in your haste to make sure that the potentially homicidal alien didn't suffocate next to you. Now you were about to suffocate instead. Fantastic.

You dove back into the scattered pile of junk with desperation, your heart sinking as one by one, the rebreather masks turned up cracked or burnt. Completely unusable.

This can't be happening, you thought hysterically, a sob threatening to burst from your throat.

You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, your eyelids fluttering with the effort of staying open. It was at that moment when you finally spotted it lying on the floor, maybe a dozen or so steps away.

A completely intact mask.

Your eyes widened as you staggered forward, hand reaching out desperately. You took about two steps before your vision swam dangerously, your gaze titling quickly towards the ground.

You landed harshly on the concrete, you could tell by the way your teeth clacked and the hard jolt in your wrists, but you barely felt any pain. The only thing you could feel was the burning in your lungs and the thrumming wooziness in your head that was making everything spin.

Come on, you gritted your teeth, using the last of your strength to shimmy yourself forward, your mouth gaping open in rapid, heavy pants.

Come on....

Your vision darkened at the edges as your head collapsed against the floor, your body finally giving in to violent convulsions. You panted shallowly, your fingers twitching out to reach for something—someone.

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of your body floating steadily in the air, before relief quenched the unbearable burning in your lungs. You blinked blearily, the last of your energy drained as your eyes finally slid shut.

You dreamt of the ocean. Sea mist in your hair and salt water on your lips.

****

Sunlight shone through your lids, making you groan.

Your eyelids fluttered in irritation, before finally blinking open in defeat, giving up on the hope of getting any more sleep.

You were...not in your your room. Your eyes widened as you jolted upright in shock—or, well at least you tried to. An overwhelming throbbing pain across your chest, knees, right forearm and head knocked you flat on your back again, wheezing for air.

The second thing you noticed was the mask on your face, your breath fogging up the clear surface in small puffs. Why were you wearing a mask inside the base? What was going on?

The base collapsing in the fire. Saving the blue alien. Getting knocked unconscious by the explosion. Struggling to breathe—

Your breath shuddered as you brought your left hand up to grasp at your neck at the phantom feelings of suffocation, your fingers drifting upwards to skim the tender bruise at the back of your skull. Your heart hammered frantically in your chest.

Then, if you were here, that meant...

Your head slowly craned over to the other side of the room, a gasp leaving your throat at the sight of your new roommate slumped against the wall.

Now that you were no longer in survival mode, you could truly take in his incredible stature. It was exactly like the stories you'd been told, he had to be at least ten feet tall, if not a little more. Lucky for him though, the ceilings in the storage room were just barely high enough to accommodate him at his full height.

His skin was not the same shade of blue everywhere. You noticed that it was a lighter, sky blue color nearing the center of his body like his torso and his face, and a darker, marine blue color at the extremities. There also seemed to be a distinct stripe like pattern that you were pretty sure was natural for his species. The dark, tattoo-like markings all over his body were a different story of course. The swirling shapes and symbols extended down his biceps and climbed delicately up his neck, but seemed to be the most intricate around his left temple.

Large blue eyes suddenly snapped open, catching your stare with startling intensity. You almost scrambled backwards in a jolt of fear, but caught yourself at the last second, holding carefully still.

You didn't even dare to breathe as he narrowed his eyes at you, making no move to come closer. His right arm hung limply at his side, the blistered skin probably making it very painful to move it at all. Not that you were much better off.

If you were to take a guess, you probably had second degree burns scattered in patches across the front of your body. The only thing keeping the bile in your throat from rising any further was your immobility.

After a few tense moments his gaze flickered away, growing disinterested in your little staring competition. You felt the air escape from your lungs, your tense shoulders loosening in a discreet sigh of relief. Right, you probably didn't register as much of a threat when you were sprawled across the floor like a rag doll.

You turned your gaze back towards the ceiling, staring thoughtfully at the condensation on your mask as you contemplated your situation. The rations you'd found earlier were probably salvageable, being packed safely inside thick bags meant to withstand the elements of Pandora. As for water...well, you were just happy it rained often here. You'd have to find a way to capture the water from the tiny windows much too high for you to reach, but that was a problem for later you. As for now...

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to push up to a sitting position. Your eyes watered immediately at the intense burning pain. Okay, no, your pain tolerance wasn't that high. Gritting your teeth, you tried rolling over instead, the stretch of your skin making your jaw clench so hard you were surprised a tooth didn't crack under the pressure.

You were so concentrated on the movement that you didn't feel your stomach roiling tumultuously, or the warm bile climbing up your throat until it was too late. As you pushed yourself up on a shaky arm, your eyes widened as you felt your body violently expel your last meal. You shoved off your mask in the nick of time, turning your head to the side as gunk splattered on the floor next to you in an acrid, chunky pile.

You wiped your face with your good arm, spitting out the residue in your mouth with a grimace. Gross.

The Na'vi was eyeing you in disgust, and you were pretty sure that he would've moved away if he wasn't already sitting as far as he possibly could from you. You returned your own glare. Well, if it weren't for you, he'd currently be an extra crispy dino-sized potato chip, so he shouldn't be complaining about vomit.

Readjusting your mask, you glanced carefully around the room, your gaze sharpening on a first aid kit poking out of a ration bag. Well, patching yourself up was priority number one. You were not looking to deal with an infection on top of second degree burns.

You hissed a breath through your teeth, pushing yourself up on your elbows. Your arms shook from the strain, tears welling up in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

Twenty feet felt like two miles, and by the time you'd managed to drag yourself across the floor, you were pretty sure forty-five minutes had passed. The whole time, you felt a piercing stare burning into your back. You ignored it, not having the energy for another useless stare down.

Coughing wetly, you grabbed the duffel bag with trembling fingers, pulling it closer to you. It took you a few tries to pull the zipper open, but you finally managed the motion on the fourth try, freeing the white box of medical supplies from its confines.

You undid the clasps, flipping it open carefully. Bandaids, gauze, plasters, soap, alcohol wipes, sterile gloves, tweezers, antibiotic ointment, scissors, needle and thread. Perfect.

Carefully scooting yourself to a seated position and wincing at every tiny agonizing motion, you pulled on the latex gloves with a snap. A muted snarl broke you out of your concentration, making you pause.

Your alien roommate was not a happy camper, judging by his curled upper lip that exposed his giant, bat-like fangs. Okay, that was definitely not good. Those things could probably bite your leg clean off if you weren't careful.

The rumors you heard about his species still very much freaked you out, if you were being honest.

"Hey," you said lowly, raising your gloved hands. You flinched as his snarl grew more intense, eyeing the unnatural blue color on your skin in evident distrust.

Jesus Christ, you'd really done it now, hadn't you? Why couldn't you have just acted like a normal human being with self preservation instincts and only saved yourself? Now you had to deal with...whatever the hell this headache was.

"They're gloves," you emphasized helplessly, knowing that he couldn't understand you but still trying to convey meaning through your tone. "They're harmless, see?" You brought your hands down to pat your shoulders, hiding a wince at the movement. You put on your most convincing (although slightly strained), harmless smile for extra effect. A rogue muscle jumped under your eye.

His glare didn't relent but the hard line of his scowl relaxed a little. Okay rude, what did he even think you were capable of doing in this sorry ass state? Plus, if you wanted him dead you would have just let him be.

Struggling not to roll your eyes, you pointed at one of the nastier burns on your chest, where your shirt was torn to shreds and practically fusing with the reddened, bloody skin. "I'm hurt," you exaggerated the word, widening your eyes meaningfully and frowning. "This will help me heal." You pointed at the contents of the first aid kit, before pointing back at your wound with a raised brow.

The Na'vi snorted at your slowed tone, rolling his shoulder in dismissal before occupying himself with something on a distant wall.

Annoyance surged through you, but it was brief and you let it go quickly with a sigh. Whatever, it was a good thing his suffocating attention was off of you now.

He never turned his back to you though, you noticed. Even now, you could tell he was still keeping tabs on you by the tension in his shoulders.

Well, maybe it was better that he still saw you as somewhat of a threat.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you grabbed a water bottle, soap solution and some gauze, bracing yourself for how much this was going to make you want to shit yourself. And you were pretty sure that the Na'vi would muster up the last of his strength and kill you himself if that actually happened, judging by his utter disgust and displeasure at your vomit.

Wetting a piece of gauze with water and soap, you brought it gingerly to the skin over your collarbone. Striking pain erupted at the point of contact, your jaw flexing to keep in any sounds.

Patting the gauze lower, you couldn't help but screech at the utter agony of it connecting with your open wound. Fuckity fuck fuck, that hurt like bitch on steroids.

When you blinked away the confetti in your vision, you caught the Na'vi's alarmed gaze, the space where his eyebrows should have been now furrowed and pointed ears pricked up and facing you.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you muttered under your breath, before gritting your teeth as you forced your trembling hands to press the gauze pad over the rest of your wound. It took awhile and several rolls, but now every wound was cleaned, dressed, and if needed—stitched. Your head still throbbed uncontrollably in what was most definitely a nasty concussion, but you couldn't really ice it like you wanted to. By the time you were done, the sun had already started to set in the sky.

Your stomach rumbled in protest, and you grimaced. The intense pain had made you forget that you unfortunately needed sustenance to survive.

Time to take stock of your supply.

You dug through the duffle bag on your side, pulling out MRE kits and other field rations. You also found some plastic utensils and more water bottles and filters. Some of them were weirdly misshaped though, probably warped from the heat of the explosion.

You discarded those ones to the side with a frown. What a waste.

Ripping open an MRE pack, you mourned your microwave as you took a bite of room temperature tortellini. You just hoped that those in charge of the outer ring of base 36 came to your rescue sooner rather than later.

The rapidly familiarizing feeling of a piercing stare on you caused you to look up, your gaze locking onto narrowed baby blues. But they looked more curious than distrustful, this time.

You held up your meal pack, gesturing at him. "You want some?" You shook it in his direction meaningfully. "It's good." Lie, but he didn't need to know that.

Like most other living creatures, you were 99% sure he needed to eat to stay alive. And as far as you knew, he'd eaten nothing since you were both trapped. As long as he didn't try to eat you, you didn't mind sharing your rations. There was still quite a lot left, and you were pretty hopeful sure your fellow humans would have paid you a visit before you inevitably ran out.

His eyes widened minutely at the package, and you could see the barest predatory flash in his widening pupils, before he huffed, shooting you a disgusted look.

Your raised hand lowered as you gave him a deadpanned look. What a brat. Whatever, you shrugged, taking a quick breath as you lifted your mask. More for you then.

It was not even thirty minutes later that you realized your second dilemma.

That being, you had to tinkle. Real bad.

Goddamnit, this was embarrassing. You chanced a grimacing look at your companion, who was once again busy staring at a wall, but one ear was still turned towards you. No matter how weird this situation was, you had no desire to contribute to that factor by getting naked in front of a volatile, giant blue alien.

But you were nothing if not resourceful.

Goodbye, dignity, you sighed as you began hoisting yourself behind the pile of supplies and duffel bags you'd both stacked to take cover from the fire. You felt the Na'vi's wary gaze on you as you moved, but he hadn't felt the need to come and investigate, which you counted as a blessing.

Grabbing one of the warped water bottles, you poured out the toxic liquid on the concrete, before getting into position. Closing your eyes, you tried your hardest to pretend that you weren't trapped in a room with a strange alien man less than twenty feet away from you. You pictured your small, but warm toned bathroom, your toiletries lined neatly on the counter and a painting hanging over the towel rack.

Pretty soon you felt sweet relief as your aching bladder finally emptied its contents into the bottle. Your eyes blinked open, and you quickly cleaned yourself up, grimacing in embarrassment and disgust as you screwed back on the lid to the bottle and shoved it away from sight.

Well, that was over with.

By now, the room was bathed only in moon and starlight, the walls almost taking up a luminescence you would never be privy to on earth.

Your expression soured at the thought of your home planet. You didn't typically enjoy revisiting those memories, mostly because they were tainted with constant misery. The ashy smoke in the air, the dirt on your skin, the pangs of hunger deep into the night—you didn't want to think about it. You were far, far away from that life.

Although, you weren't quite sure if your current situation was much better.

With a wince, you scooted forward, peeking curiously around your makeshift wall of privacy. The Na'vi was curled on his side, still facing you, but now—surprisingly, his eyes had drifted shut, his expression finally peaceful in slumber. You held your breath, taking a moment to admire him.

Now that you weren't actively fearing for your life, you could really appreciate the wild beauty of this planet's native humanoid species. He looked like a mythical creature from a fantasy story, aqua blue skin shining like the glimmering shallow waters on a beach under the sunlight. You blinked a couple of times in shock, resisting the urge to rub them. No—wait, he was actually glowing.

At first you had thought it was the moonlight shining on his skin, but he seemed to be generating his own variation of bioluminescence instead. A beacon of otherworldly beauty, just like the rest of Pandora.

Incredible, you thought to yourself in awe, unable to look away. Your fingers itched with the sudden urge to start sketching him.

Suddenly, a pale, opalescent eye snapped open, glaring at you furiously. You yelped, almost falling backwards on your elbows.

His lip curled to reveal a snarl, his ears pinning down flat against his head in warning and his thick tail whipping restlessly in the air. The message was clear: mind your own business before I come over there and gouge your tiny eyes out. I'll do it—

"Okay, okay," you sighed, raising your hands in surrender. "I get it, I'm leaving."

You scooted away, back into your little alcove of duffel bags and random burnt junk. Lowering yourself onto the fluffiest looking one, you sighed, squirming uncomfortably as you stared at the scorched ceiling.

It didn't take long before your blinks became heavier and more frequent, your eyelids lowering more with each one. It seemed you were more exhausted that you thought.

When your breathing finally evened out, it was to the distinct feeling of a strong, steady heartbeat thrumming beneath you.

************

Y'all, I had way too much fun writing Ao'nung's pissy attitude XD. I can't picture his aggressive side eye without cracking up. Don't worry though, he'll eventually come around ;)

MRE: Meals ready to eat. Packaged meals meant for quick, convenient consumption. Used in the military.

If you’re not in the taglist already and you’d like to be, just let me know in the comments and I’ll tag you in the next part :)

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[moonriver080]

【Funny Story Time】

I wrote an article for my 6 pictures

I tried to machine translate a paragraph and modify it.

But it's too long. I give up.

During Links meal breaks, the chains sometimes share anecdotes from the past to improve their understanding of each other ......

Well, sometimes it's not so much the anecdotes that are shared as it is the puzzles or the creepy pasts that are shared on reflection. (And some people seem to enjoy it.

It was a spring-flowery afternoon, and the sun was just right, and mixed with the sweet aroma of the chef's well-cooked courser milk soup, it had to be said that it was a very good soothing respite for Links, who had just finished a hard-fought battle, both physically and mentally.

Everything was just right, so Warriors let his guard down and picked a conversation that had left him a bit exhausted for the next week (Oh! Don't get me wrong, it was actually quite an interesting process and development /grin/)

Huh, how could he be blamed, after all the Warriors, who was more social than the other Links, was relatively adept at grasping the melodrama of the atmosphere, knowing when to be quiet and when it was better to have a chat.

They all understood that the team was, with the exception of certain ones, clamshells that had come to life one by one. (Or maybe some of the outgoing ones are actually clamshells.) (Aha! A new way of flirting with oneself is born.)

Anyway, this is why Warriors wave his spoon smugly (like a tiny flag): "...... When we triumphed, the streets were filled with petals and ribbons, and people clustered in the streets and upstairs and on the rooftops, and though, trampled by the war, both the roads and the .. were somewhat depressed ...... Well! That part doesn't matter now!"Warriors stirs the soup and takes a small sip (any more and we won't be able to start a conversation today, Wild, the

boy's food is gaggingly good), "...brave soldiers walk the streets of Castle Town, their footsteps without the thunder of applause that rises up at the first moment, and my beloved Epona kicks and stomps (and here it's being torn apart by sunlight) down the stone streets, edged in gold, and the streets are filled with the most beautiful and beautiful things in the world.My beloved Epona was kicking and stomping along the stone streets edged in gold by the sunlight (glared at by a certain few here), flowers were thrown from all over the place to send blessings to the soldiers, and the fallen flowers covered the whole road, Aaannnnnd!Of course~ I received the most bouquets of flowers~ No matter which way I looked, the screams were like the rising of the tides that rose up and down, and went on and on and on~"

Warriors grunts and laughs as he speaks, lifting his bangs and skimming the ends of his hair.

Gee, he's always showing off his hormones that have nowhere to go.Legend smacked his lips on his spoon, the delicious food immediately soothing his prickly nerves caused by the teasing, but ......

Putting aside some of his "preconceptions", Warriors was indeed a strong general with leadership qualities, and under the circumstances, it was only natural that he would be welcomed to protect the people, lead the soldiers, gather the divided world, defeat Ganon, and bring safety to the people.With this in mind, Legend picked out the fruit in the soup and took a bite.Looks like he's popular, that's really good. Well, yummy.

(Wild has fine-tuned for everyone's tastes, the golden apple chunks added late in his bowl are soft, crunchy and sweet after micro-cooking, rich in flavor, he had asked for some seeds long ago, but Wild said that this golden apples are produced by probability,. Hummm, Legend who is the hottest apple supplier in Hylia and Loria' smiles but does not say anything.)

But ......Legend chewed another bite of apple chunks, looking at him like this is really unpleasant ah.Legend was disgusted by the image that appeared in his mind of Warriors riding horses and throwing flying kisses to stir up a cheering crowd of cold shivers, ah, can not think about it, a little stomach.[I'm not sure if this paragraph is translated correctly (because I read it myself as if something was wrong, but I don't know what went wrong).]

The Chef of Peace, who had been listening to the story since a moment ago and had somehow become a bit dazed, came back to his senses and looked at Legend, who was blushing a bit darkly, in puzzlement.

【If you want to know the full text, let me know, and maybe I'll translate it intermittently.】

Eggs①: (Three photos taken by Wind) (Price:?)

Confused by the first delivery of the bouquet

Link)

(Link, who was surrounded by civilians, gave flowers and scattered petals to celebrate shyness and cover his face)

(Link who was frightened by the enthusiasm of the people and hid in the Zelda King)

Eggs②:

A week later, another tea break.

Wars looked at Time, who was being chased and intercepted, and drank a cup of sweet and sour fruit tea contentedly.

Offensive and defensive potential is also different, sapling, soldiers are not tired of cheating, plan and then move, is also for the trick. (Completely strung together.)

Wind? Wind curled his lips as he held a small part of the empty cookie bag. Wars really held a grudge.

[cambion-companion]

I cannot concentrate on my work (ironically as a TA writing up my phd thesis) because I read your intelligence 8 tav x raphael fics and now I am shaken to the core and all I wanna do is daydream about being a clueless little slut in the house of hoep

please saer can I have some more

hahaha I'm so glad that brain worm took root, intelligence 8 Tav is delightful. I also wanted to incorporate this lovely ask as well and express my gratitude for the support you all have given me this month. All is well! Enjoy a drabble with a Tav/reader utterly oblivious to the true nature of a cambion...to them he's just a tiefling with wings! how cool!

Raphael + reader (gn) drabble

(I'll probably write another that's more romantic/cute but this was too funny to pass up)

"You have an uncanny talent at getting into the most outlandish situations." Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath.

You looked around at the decadent room he'd rented for himself, steam rising from two baths and flower petals ornamenting the lush red carpet. "I wouldn't think a devil-guy would be the sort to have tulips thrown about."

"Roses." Raphael corrected, his hand clasping firm about your upper arm just in time to save you from slipping on the wet tile and braining yourself. "I would wager a hefty sum of gold your mind does not entertain too many thoughts at one time."

"Thank you." You murmured, touched. You allowed him to escort you to safety upon a chair and watched with vague interest at how his lips twisted in bemusement. "I should thank you for saving my bacon back there. Wasn't expecting to survive that. But Shart always gets Withers to bring me back when we run out of those glowy scroll things."

"I do believe I sense a migraine coming on." Raphael squeezed his eyes shut briefly before crossing to pour you both a glass of dark brown alcohol.

You took the fancy crystal glass and downed the drink with gusto, only realizing your mistake when the scorching whiskey had passed into your gullet, and you burst into a coughing fit. Raphael sighed and gave you a solid couple thumps on your back as you struggled to breath. "There now. Death by imbibing spirits too eagerly is no way to enter the afterlife. Not until you've served your purpose, at least."

"What?"

"I'm concerned for your well-being, dear."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. "That's really nice of you, Raph." He winced at the nickname but just barely managed to keep a pleasant neutral expression. "I don't know why everyone else threw such a fit about you, you're not a bad dude."

"I'm flattered." Raphael almost felt a sense of annoyance at how easy this was. He enjoyed a challenge, and this mortal was certainly not bringing it. He drained his glass fluidly and returned it with a clink to the table. "Now, your person is more or less stable for the time being."

You looked around, checking behind you. "What person?"

"Your body has been plucked from the peril you so naively flounced into." Raphael clarified, a slight edge to his words now, he was running low on patience. "Be a good mouse and run along, fetch me the crown and we can part ways amicably."

"I never imagined mice to be much good at fetching." You mused, rising to your feet as Raphael practically pushed you from his room. "That seems more a dog's forte. Oh, we have a most wonderful dog back at camp-"

The door closed in your face, so close it almost clipped your nose. You stared at the dark wood for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. You spoke a little louder so he would be able to hear through it. "His name is Scratch! What was I saying? Oh yes, dogs fetch crowns and balls better than mice! Maybe keep that in mind when giving people animal nicknames!"

No answer.

He must have gone to take a nap. You were sure cambions probably did that often since they seemed to act much like cats in every other way.

Smiling to yourself you departed, convinced that you and Raphael were now bosom friends.

[dtfpeta]

Eager To Please | Ghost x Fem Reader

Tags: porn no plot, fingering, oral (f receiving), praise, sub!ghost, slight orgasm denial

a/n: so i haven’t written fanfiction in a whiiille and i don’t expect this to be great but i want to start somewhere. i heavily encourage constructive criticism and feedback!

Word count: 1,464

Read here on ao3!

__________ Ghost is someone who wants security. The vulnerability it takes and the safety that such intimacy like this provides, allows him to revel in this shared moment for as long as he desires.

That's why he takes his time with you. Degradation is something not suited for him, especially regarding this activity. You trusting him to this extent is something he could only dream of, regardless of those being a rare commodity for him. The gratuitous praise of sweet words lingers in the air like the wind from an open window on a humid day. This, however, enveloping you to a mind-clouding extent rather than just the surface of your skin. Your own insecurity getting in the way when your body subconsciously tries to conceal itself from the softened tower of a man atop you.

“Let me make you feel good. Let me thank you”

You are his rock. The one he trusts most to give his most vulnerable moments to. Whether that be from the aftershock of returning from a threateningly disastrous mission, sharing even the insecurities he has trouble not voicing to himself, or the moments like this where he has missed you so terribly he tries to weld you into his skin. He has more than enough to be thankful for when it comes to you. Like the wild daisies that grow from the foundation of abandoned and nearly dilapidated homes he finds when on duty. You are the pink on his callouses and you stain a similar shade of rose against his semi cloth-concealed face. You are the good he has learned to find in the bad he thinks himself to be.

He raises his balaclava to display his lips and what is now closer to a 5-week shadow covering the lower half of his face. The sensation of his stubble only adds to the pleasure of the cherry-colored spots he leaves along your body. Sometimes, more so blackberry tinted.

As he traverses down the mountains and curves, the valleys and peaks of your body, he finally reaches your wanting heat. His butterfly white lashes open to give an almost pleading look, one that asks a question. Not being able to contain the unbridled lust no one but him can invoke, you buck your hips toward his touch and he lowers himself with a pleased hum till he is nestled in your thighs. A home he wished to return to as soon as possible anytime he was away.

“Please don’t tease Simon” Relinquishing his call sign you near but beg for him, hoping he doesn’t hear the needy break in your voice. He doesn't see this as teasing though. Only making a moment he would never take for granted, last while. "Patience comes with its rewards." He taunts.

Simon reaches his left arm under your leg to come up and rest on your lower stomach. As he lets his eyes drink in the display that is you before him, naked and red with wanton need, he brings his right hand to stroke between your folds. Moving upward as he gathers your slick and massages slow circles onto your neglected clit. “You’re so good to me sweetheart” he voices in a deep, molasses-coated tone. His ministrations remained at a tantalizing pace. One that kept you on the verge of stagnant pleasure.

A heightened gasp left your throat in response to the mess he was making with just his three fingers that laid on your bundle of nerves, moving back and forth and massaging said bundle between his digits. His speed picks up and the only thing you can think of is how only he can make you feel this way. And he is never in jeopardy of forgetting to remind you. A heat begins to form in your chest that carries to your ribs and limbs. The nerves that occupy your fingers being lit ablaze with accompanying rapid breaths that feed in the air around you in an attempt to blow out the flame. Simon picks up on your heavy and quickened breaths. The desire induced fantasies he procured of you to satiate a certain hunger of his while in the field didn’t fill up his head like the sounds you made now could.

Before you could register the gleam of anticipated regret in his eyes he removes his hand. “My god-!” you exclaim. Before you can beg his name the hand resting on top of your stomach moves to allow for his thumb to continue his previous work. His thumb now encircling your clit with less urgency than his dominant hand could provide, though still moving at a more than gratifying pace. “Just wait for me sweet girl” he breathed.

A new sensation was felt where he teased and traced around your entrance. Feeling how your hole clenched at nothing but the idea of him, any part of him, to be inside you.

“Who am I to keep you waiting?” he questioned before sinking his middle and ring finger deep into your cunt.

A moan escaped your lips as you wrapped around his fingers. “Fuck, just look at you.” The whimpers that left your mouth as he stroked along your walls began to compete with the squelch of your pussy as Simon continued to finger you. His digits slowly entered you to meet the perfect spot in your cunt that Simon had already memorized. Making sure to burn the most wanting parts of your body into his brain like a cd he listened to on repeat.

“Do you want another one?” he asked suggestively before lifting his stone-heavy eyelids to meet your gaze. His two fingers already worked perfectly inside of you but Simon always took more of a hands-on approach, especially when it came to you. The moan you let out was enough of a response for him as he rutted his finger into your walls against your g-spot. “I know sweet girl. You take it so well”

He had now worked in an additional finger that was soon found in the pulse grip you had his previous appendages in. A shaky moan leaves him before reconnecting his gaze with your own. Simon's pupils are blown and he thinks he just learned it was possible for a human to experience this much bliss. The pride he found in being able to make you feel good was unmatched to anything he had felt before.

“Don’t stop Simon!” you beg at him.

He pinches his eyebrows together and gives you a breathless smirk. “You know me better than that.”

Rather than quitting, Simon replaces his thumb on your clit with a languid stroke from his tongue. “You missed this too, yeah?” You jump from the sudden contact and can’t help but squirm under his perfect touch. His suctioning tongue works in tandem with his fingers that provide long and fervid strokes into your drenched cunt.

This is cloud nine for Simon. It’s all he needs. The reactions your body gives his own don't go unnoticed by his own senses when he begins to rut into the bed beneath him. “Because I missed this so much” Simon lets out shaky moans between your lips followed by a pleading of your name when the summit of your pleasure begins to approach.

“I missed this too baby. I missed you so much.” you say as you throw your head back and reach for the back of his head.

Simon continues to lap at you and groans into your sex, the added vibration sending your jaw falling open and a noiseless ‘o’ to form on your face. Your back arches as your legs begin to spasm around the soldier's head and a similar fire from earlier sets your nerves ablaze. Making its way throughout your body and stationing itself in the lower pit of your stomach.

With a final moan from a breathless Simon, his hips stutter into the comforter below as the muscles in his back begin to tense, taking him to his own summit of pleasure. He sucks at your clit with a hard passion as he helps ride out the both of your orgasms. He pulls away with a string of saliva connecting his chin to your pussy. Both of your wrecked states being proof of such a passionate and profane act.

You look up at him with an exhausted but content smile. That rose stain returns to his cheeks as he tries to cover the spot on the bed he made a mess of. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while-" he begins, but is cut off by your soft hush and loving gaze. He has no reason to be embarrassed, especially since you know it means for an eager chance at redemption from the masked man that is later to come.

[m-jelly]

Yes, Your Highness.

Prince Levi x fem!Reader

Royal AU, romance, fluff, falling in love, arranged marriage that became love, Levi always liked you, using a hunting rifle, hunting.

Levi is madly in love with you, but you are a little hesitant. Levi and his mother arranged the engagement due to his burning feelings for you. So, to get you to fall for him he takes you on dates. Today he takes you for a horseback ride in the snow to a hunting spot where he intimately teaches you how to hunt deer.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

The winter air bit at your skin as you stood outside on the palace steps. Even though you were wrapped up in a winter dress, robe and gloves the cold air still managed to get in. Snow covered the land adding a clean white blanket over everything. Spider's webs were turned into beautiful jewels with gems of ice.

Your breath curled in front of your eyes when you released a sigh. The Prince had asked you to come with him for a date. So, you were stood in the snow waiting for him. You rather liked the Prince, but there was just something holding you back and you weren't sure what. You wanted to love him like he clearly loved you, but it was hard to ignore the rumours about him being a bit of a tyrant.

You flinched and snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name called. Your eyes flicked to the path. Your heart skipped a beat when Prince Levi in black clothes and a cloak with fur around the neck rode over to you on his black horse.

Levi pulled on the reins of his horse to bring him to a stop. His black leather gloves groaned at his actions. He twisted his muscular body and jumped off his horse. The cloak around him bloomed around him as he turned to face you.

Levi walked towards you, his long boots gripping his legs. He paused before you. The snow crunched under Levi's knee when he knelt before you. His warm, soft leather gloved hand lightly took yours. His warm loving lips pressed against your hand making you flush.

The dazzling grey-blue eyes of Levi flicked up and locked with yours. A sweet smile spread across his lips. "You look enchanting today."

You hummed a little as you felt flustered. "Thank you. May I say you are looking rather dashing today."

He rose to his feet and smiled. "Getting one up on me, huh?"

"Mm."

He scooped you up into his arms making you squeal. "You will be riding with me."

"R-Really? Would it not be better for me to have my own horse?"

Levi sat you at the front of his saddle. "Riding in the snow can be tricky." He climbed up behind you and pressed his chest firmly against your back. "This will allow me to ensure your safety." He snaked one arm around you to hold you in place. "This also allows me to keep you close and warm."

You leaned against Levi's chest and felt yourself relax. "You are rather warm."

He leaned closer and whispered against your ear. "I will happily keep you warm whenever you desire it."

With a quick tap of his heels, the two of you raced off into the woods that the royal family owned. Riding through the snow was exciting and nerve-wracking all in one. So, you firmly gripped Levi as best as you could to ensure you didn't fall. Levi had a tight grip on you, so you were never going to fall.

Levi was on cloud nine because he was able to embrace you for this long. His adoration for you was almost on a crazy level. He was besotted by you. His engagement to you was fuelled by strong true feelings. He wanted to grow old with you and raise a few adorable little children. He loved you endlessly and hoped that he could possess your heart and love.

You turned your head to look at Levi as the nerves and worry took over. "Levi."

Elation consumed Levi because he had longed for you to use his name instead of your highness. He slowed his horse and gave you a reassuring smile. "I am right here. I'll protect you."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you."

He pulled on the reins again and came to a stop. "This is perfect." He slipped off the horse first before lifting you up and placing you on your feet. "Are you ready to go hunting?"

"Y-Yes, but I don't know how to use a gun."

He grabbed the rifle from his horse. "I'll show you." He put his arm around you and tugged you close. "Careful as you go. Lean on me."

You hugged Levi's side as you let him guide you through the thick snow. "I find this weather rather beautiful."

"As do I." He chuckled. "Allows me to get close to you for warmth."

Your cheeks burned as your heart raced. "I too enjoy that."

Levi's eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat and his cheeks heated up. His blush was adorable. "Now, that makes me very happy to hear."

You lowered your head. "You are doing that thing again."

"And what might that be?"

You glanced up at him. "Staring at me."

"I can't help but look at such a divine being."

You whined a little. "My heart cannot take the kind and sweet words."

He stood behind you and whispered in your ear. "The more I do it the more you will be used to it. I cannot help myself with you."

"You are a tyrant of a prince."

He shifted and placed the rifle in your hands. "Indeed I am."

You gripped the long gun and gulped hard. "Must I kill a deer? I worry I will fail in killing it."

"You will. I will guide you. We will feast on it tonight. I know my staff will be elated at hearing their princess-to-be provided food for them." He gripped your hips and shifted you slightly. "Correct your stance. You must ground yourself."

You shifted a little in the snow. "Like this?"

"Correct." He lifted the gun a little. "Firmly place the butt of the gun against your shoulder, if you do not and it kicks back you'll hurt yourself." He dragged his hands up your body to your waist before firmly squeezing. "I would not know what to do with myself if you got hurt under my watch."

"I will be careful."

"Good girl."

You shivered at the words of praise. "Mm."

Levi made a mental note to use those two words often. "Tilt your head a little and close one eye. Look down the sight. Do you see the deer ahead?"

"I do."

He placed his hand on yours over the trigger. "There are multiple places you can shoot, the heart, the neck or a key artery. You could attempt the head for a quick kill." He pressed his body against yours and whispered. "We shall go for the head. When I say, slowly squeeze the trigger. Do not yank or press hard. It must be a slow squeeze. Breathe in and hold your breath to steady your aim, then release your breath when you fire."

You rolled your shoulders. "There's a lot to it."

"There is, but you'll be a natural in no time. Now, no tensing up." He kissed the side of your head. "You're doing so well. Good girl. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Levi placed his hands on yours. "Together then. If the deer walks, lead with the gun, do not follow. Now, breathe in." He hummed. "That's it, good girl." He whispered gently. "Now."

The gun went off with a bang and kicked back a little, but thankfully Levi was grounding you in place. Your eyes instantly shut tightly at the bang and light. You yanked the gun up and turned in Levi's arms as your ears rang. The strong warm arms of the prince wrapped firmly around you to comfort you.

Levi took the gun when you turned and tossed it down into the snow. He gazed at the deer and saw you had killed it with one shot to the head. "Good girl. You did it. You got the head. I'm very impressed."

You looked up at him with your adorable wide puppy eyes. "Really?"

He chuckled a little. "Really. I'm proud of you. So proud that I would love to kiss you, but I know you are still cautious with me."

You gulped hard and gripped his lapels. "Perhaps I would like to try this kissing. I-If you wish to."

Levi's lips crashed against yours before you could utter another word. Though the air around you was freezing cold, what was between you was blazing hot. With bodies firmly pressed together, it was hard to determine when one body started and ended. You were driven by weeks of wanting, tension and temptation. There was no going back after this moment. Your heart was forever Levi's now.

Levi released your lips and found it amusing when you tried to chase them. "Adorable. I must say, that was better than I had imagined. You are a goddess."

"Levi."

"Please, keep saying my name. It sounds so delicious on your lips."

You pressed your face against his chest. "Cease your teasing words."

Levi chuckled as he played with your hair. "Forgive me." He looked over at the dead deer. "We have a deer to collect and staff to feed."

"How will we bring it back?"

"I will tie it on the back of my horse." He released you and moved through the snow. "Wait there."

It didn't take long for Levi to collect the deer. His strength was impressive as he was able to lift the large beast and carry it with ease to his horse. With a few swift movements, it was tied to the back of the horse and all that was left was for the two of you to ride back together.

Once again, you sat with your back pressed against the Prince's chest. This time you rode much slower. You were touched that Levi was considerate of you, that he knew before you were a little nervous about going so fast through the woods and snow.

The staff sang your praise when you presented them with the deer. It flustered you to hear so many people say wonderful things. Since moving to the palace weeks ago at the start of your engagement, you had been treated with so much kindness and respect. The staff were quick to help you and befriend you. It was nice.

Levi guided you into his home and to a nice warm room. You were nervous once again when you both began removing your outdoor winter things until you were just in your indoor attire. You carefully adjusted your dress in hopes Levi would praise you.

Levi glanced over at you in your form-fitting dress. "My word, you are a feast for the eyes. You are so beautiful."

"Th-thank you." You hummed as he walked closer. "I like your black princely suit."

"Thank you." He gently caressed your cheek. "May I kiss you again?"

"Please do."

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - for you I’ll do anything

Every since you were a child joining the marines was all you had ever wanted, all you had ever thought about.

Just like your mom. Her dad. His father. His father’s mother.

Your family had been part of the marines for as long as you guys were able to go back through military history.

Your name was known throughout the entire military, from new members to high ranking officers, they all knew your last name.

You quickly rose through the ranks, and you loved every single moment off it, and your ability to combat made you an easy choice when it came to putting people to work with the Spartans.

You were used to working with them, and had grown used to their patterns, growing to accept them as friends even if they kept you at arms reach.

Standing with your hands clasped behind your back, you listened as the admiral talked.

“This is a simple in and out mission, do not make contact unless you have to.” She spoke.

You nodded your head.

“Yes ma’am.”

You walked over to the table in the middle of the room, pulling up a hologram, pointing to one of the paths as you looked to the silver team and their chief.

“We mapped this cave system a few weeks back, but we never found what the covenant were looking for. There’s a small group of them there now, we assume just as guards until their people can come and retrieve it.”

“How do you know where it is then?” Vannak asked.

You flicked through some files and pulled up a short video, playing it for them.

“I was able to place a tracker in one of them, and they’ve been taking the same path every single day.”

You pulled up the map again, highlighting the route that the covenant soldier always took.

“My best guess is that somewhere along where we’ll find what we’re looking for, most likely in this cavern here.”

“What do you need us for Marine?” John asked.

You turned your attention to him.

“I need you guys as a safety net essentially. I can get in and out by myself, there is a short window when they swap their shifts, if something goes wrong I’ll actually the alarm on my vest.”

“So we’re babysitters?” Riz huffed a little.

You knew she wasn’t mad at you, they just didn’t like having to escort people places, or do anything that wasn’t what they were usually trained for.

“If I can get this object, I can bring it back for Miranda to take a look at. We aren’t sure what it is, all we know is that we need to take it out of their hands.”

They nodded their heads.

“We need to leave in an hour, be ready at at the ship.”

You turned away from the group and back to the admiral.

“Are you sure this is worth it?” She asked.

“I’m not entirely sure if I’m honest ma’am, but I am sure whatever this is seems really important to them.”

She nodded her head.

“Bring it straight to me as soon as you get it.”l

“Yes ma’am.”

You left, going down to your office, you pulled your armour on, putting your helmet on and grabbed your gun.

People moved aside as you walked down the hallway, and you heard the heavy metal sounds of the Spartans all falling in line with you.

“Do we have any indication on what this object is?” John asked.

“My guess is I think it may be something they use to create their weapons. Years back a storm swept over the place, buried everything in water, which destroyed the ground’s integrity, and it collapsed. The cave used to be a valley.”

“So a few of their soldiers were in there and got caught, unable to get out, maybe they were carrying something?” Kai asked you.

“Covenant ships have been know to crash there for years, we’re not sure why. But every time one does they go and scrap the ship, whatever is on those ships they want back, I reckon that’s what this is. Maybe a black box of sorts.”

You walked over to the ship, waiting for them to go in first before you went to your own ship.

It was smaller, only enough room for two people and you got everything ready.

“Master Chief, are you patched in to my location?”

“Yes. Ready to follow.”

“Then let’s go.”

It was a long travel to get there, and you had to land a good distance away from them.

Making your way out of your ship, you walked over to the four.

“It’s a straight line from here to there, there’s some large rocks not far from here.”

“We can wait there.”

You nodded your head, leading them to the rocks and they all got in position while you looked at your watch.

It was old, passed down through generations of your family, and you crouched down, waiting for the right time.

“Marine?”

You glanced up at John as he crouched down next to you, taking his helmet off so the others weren’t able to hear what he was saying.

“Are you sure this is worth it?”

“We need to get our hands on whatever it is their after John..” you whispered back.

“If something goes wrong we’ll be too far away to help.”

You sighed.

“Then you get the object back to the admiral.”

“Leave you here?”

You looked up at him.

“They did with my father, it would make no difference if you left me. My father spent months trying to get this, his job is my job now, John please. He died trying to get this.”

John sighed, putting his helmet back on.

“Cortana, is there another place to hide closer to the cave?”

You didn’t hear a response, but John stood up, and you did the same thing.

“There’s a small ditch, just big enough for one of us to fit in. I will hide closer to the cave just in case.”

“Remember the mission, get the object and go.”

He gave a nod of his head, and you both made your way over.

You left him in the ditch, and carried on jogging, making your way towards the cave and you checked the time once more before ducking into the cave.

You didn’t have long at all, so you needed to be in and out.

“Take a right.”

You did as John instructed and came into the cavern, kneeling to the side as you looked around.

“It’s not big, I should be able to carry it out…”

“Bring it out, we’re on standby awaiting orders.”

You crept forward, and you noticed there was two things laying on the floor.

“Guys I’ve got two of these objects, I’m going to bring them both out.”

“Hurry, we’ve noticed movement nearby. Take the first left and run straight.”

“Thanks chief…”

Grabbing the two, you quietly crept back, taking another tunnel to leave while the covenant were coming in.

You knelt at the exit, looking to make sure the coast was clear.

“On my way, get ready.”

You broke out into a dead sprint, praying you wouldn’t get caught along the way, and you jumped down into the ridge, kneeling in front of John.

He knelt over you, using the green on his armour to hide you both.

“They’ve found out it’s missing, they’re sending a group this way, do not move.”

You nodded your head, listening as the alien jets flew overhead, and he placed a large hand on your back.

“Let’s go…” John muttered.

You both broke out into a run again, he was slightly ahead of you as you regrouped with the others.

“Let’s go, I’ll run a scan on these in my ship when we’re safe.”

They joined you, all four of you making your way back to the ships.

“You three go back, we’ll meet you there.” John said.

“Chief?” Riz asked.

“Go, we’ll be right behind. No doubt if they find out we have them they’ll come after us, so I’ll take a different flight path.”

They nodded, you followed John into your ship, securing the objects into two separate holding areas before sitting in the back.

“Let’s go!” You called.

You had to wait for John to clear the atmosphere before you could get up, but the moment he did you were up and inspecting the objects.

He glanced back at you before turning back to the front of the ship.

“Any idea what they are yet?” He asked.

“No, but they seem to react the closer they get to each other.”

“Good or bad?”

“No idea.”

Walking behind his chair, you grabbed your bag and pulled out your father’s notebook, tossing the bag back down so you could look through it.

Walking back to the table you leant over it, eyes scanning over the pages as you flicked through them.

You were looking to see if he had any indication on what these things were.

“Any sign of us being followed?” You asked.

“None yet, either is silver team.”

“Good.”

You turned around, looking at the scans you had taken, and you looked at your father’s notebook.

You turned back to the devices.

Setting your notebook, you grabbed the two objects, holding them apart as you walked to the emergency escape pod.

“We’ve got company!” John called.

“Hold them off!”

You set them carefully on the ground, and walked over, getting a look at where you guys were and you saw a familiar planet under you.

You had been there before, and it was as good of a place as any.

“John keep going until you get back to reach.”

“What?”

He turned to you in confusion.

You slowly backed away from him, giving him a small smile and a salute.

You pressed the button on your vest to open your com.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you all, and I couldn’t have asked for a better team to be paired up with. I’m glad to know my father’ss work wasn’t in vein.”

You stepped into the pod, hearing John trying to get out of his chair but he kept getting stuck on everything.

“(Y/N)!” He snapped.

“They’re bombs, the moment they came into close proximity, AKA when I picked them up, they activated. They’re going to go, and the covenant are going to follow them.”

You could hear them all shouting your name, including the admiral back at reach.

“Catch you on the flip side I guess.”

You slammed your hand into the button just before John could reach you, and you took control of the escape pod.

If you could get it to the ground you could find a place to hide while the bombs went off.

Of course the moment they moved the aliens followed you instead, and you could still hear everybody calling out for you.

You tried to ignore it, getting closer and closer to the ground, alarms were sounding all around you, smoke bellowing up from blow the pod.

Turning around in your chair, you grabbed one of the bombs, opening the door to the escape pod and threw it, then threw the other one.

Closing the door again you rushed back towards your chair to try and gain control over it but you couldn’t.

Bringing your hand back up to your com and pressed it.

“Covenant fleet and the bombs have been disposed off, but I’m hit. I’m going down, I’m not sure where and I doubt I’ll make the crash. This is captain (Y/N) (L/N) signing off.”

The door to pod blew off, and you took your com out, not wanting to hear the voices shouting anymore.

The ground grew closer, and you pulled the handles up, bringing the pod up as it hit the sand and your chair was ripped out along with a whole bunch of other things.

Everything went black, and you weren’t sure for how long you were out for.

When you came too, you undid the straps from your chair, taking a deep breath.

Your body was in shock, you couldn’t feel much pain, but when you stood up your legs were weak and you saw blood coating your uniform.

You walked away from the ruin, getting as far away as you could before your knees gave in, you placed your hands on the ground coughing up some blood.

Pushing yourself up, you took your vest off, and your shirt, leaving you in your undershirt.

Taking a few shaky breaths, you placed a hand on your side, and slowly sat down, looking at the water as it softly rippled against the shore.

It was like all the movies you had seen, the photos of the peaceful beaches.

Sure, reach has some beautiful places, but you absolutely admired this view, and if it was the last thing you saw that was okay.

Taking a few breaths, you pushed yourself up, taking a few steps and you stumbled again, more blood falling from your side.

You slowly stood up again, but you couldn’t, so you stopped trying and just laid there, staring up at the sky.

Your blood stained the sand, and it was in your hair, all over your clothes.

You were sleeping between unconscious and conscious, unable to do anything else to keep yourself alive.

The pain was creeping up on you.

The ground seemed to vibrate, and you put it down to your body shutting down, but the large green suit above you told you otherwise.

You saw the numbers.

117.

“John…”

“(Y/N)!”

He crouched down, looking at your vital signs which were Reading critical.

“I’ve got you.”

He carefully picked you up, running you back to your ship, and he laid you down on the floor.

“(Y/N)?” He called.

“I.. I want.. to go in.. the water…”

John quickly put the ship into autopilot and he made his way back over to you, pulling his helmet off, setting it aside as he pressed one of your shirts to your side.

You always kept spare everything on this ship in case of emergencies.

“I need you to stay awake.”

Your eyes slowly met his.

“Can we.. can we go… in the water…?”

“We are going back to reach, they have a team of medics on standby.”

You took a shaky breath, and a few tears fell from your eyes.

“I don’t… want to.. die…”

“You’re not going to die, but you must stay away.”

You sniffled a little bit.

It was strange for John to see you in such a state, he had never seen you so scared, he had never seen you cry.

He’d seen you angry, he’d seen you happy, but it never crossed his mind that you could actually be scared of something.

“Just stay awake…” he whispered.

You coughed up more blood, and he looked at you with furrowed brows.

John slowly reached out, gently placing his forehead on your, just like you had done for him once when he was seriously injured.

“Stay awake…”

He had to leave you in order to land the ship, but the moment he landed it, he rushed back over to you, but you were immediately taken away from him.

Grabbing his helmet he rushed after you, but was forced into a debrief.

After he spent hours waiting for any news of you, but he kept getting taken away to do other things.

“(L/N) will be fine, but it will take some time for a full recovery.” A doctor said.

John nodded his head, standing up.

“What room?”

“Just down the hall to the left.”

John made his way in, and sat on the chair next to your bed.

Every day he often came to see you, needing to make sure that you were okay, even as a mission took him away for a month, he came back and straight to your room.

You were up, slowly walking up and down the lengths of your room.

“You’re okay.”

You turned to the door and smiled a little bit.

“As good as new, can go back duty in a couple of months.”

He nodded his head, and closed the door.

You sat down on your bed, and he stood there with his arms clasped in front of him.

“When will you be released?”

“In a few days, why?”

He didn’t explain, and a few days later he asked for you to meet him by the Spartan ship, not explaining why even as he took flight.

You recognised the flight path, even as you two landed.

You walked out on to the vast sand.

“John? Why did you bring me here?”

He walked over to you, he wasn’t wearing his suit, just normal gym clothes.

But he did have his weapons on board the ship.

“When you were injured you kept saying you wanted to go into the water.”

He gestured to the water.

“Now you can.”

You smiled at him, walking to the water, taking your shoes and socks off, rolling up your trouser legs and you walked into the cold water.

John walked over, doing the same thing as he stood next to you.

“I saw my dad.”

He furrowed his brows, looking at you.

“When I was dying, and I said I didn’t want to go.”

“You remember.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I wasn’t saying I didn’t want to go to you. I was saying it to my dad, he wanted me to go with him, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to die.”

“Are you scared of dying?”

“Everybody is, but we all die eventually. But I guess I always thought I’d either die naturally or painlessly at least. I’d never been so close to death. But I was also scared you leaving you behind, you having to lose another person.”

John nodded his head.

You placed a hand on your side.

“I left my ship because even as a Spartan there was no way you’d survive that blast, and there was no point taking us both down.”

“You were protecting me?”

You turned to him, giving him a small smile.

“Of course I was John. Look, we’ve had this on and off thing for a while, but I wasn’t going to let you die because of a mission I insisted on. I would do it again if I had to.”

“But I don’t want you to die.” He said quietly.

“You know I’ll more than likely die before you right?”

John turned to look at you.

“Yes, but that still doesn’t change the fact I don’t want you to die.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to take his hand, placing your other hand on his chest and he stared down at you.

“I’m sorry…”

You closed your eyes, resting your forehead on his chest for a moment before pulling away to look at him.

“Thank you for bringing me back here…”

John brought a hand up, placing it on the side of your face, and he leant down, hesitantly kissing you and you moved your hand to the back of his head to kiss him back.

John pulled away first, and he just looked at you, his eyes boring into yours.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yeah John… I’ll be okay I promise…”

He nodded his head, and you moved to stand in front of him, your hand holding his to your side you had injured, back resting against him as you just looked at the water.

He wasn’t going to pretend he understood your fascination with it, because he didn’t, but you wanted to come here so that’s why he brought you here.

He was still learning about emotions, and what exactly was going on with you two, but he did feel lost when you were stuck in that room, he was so used to you by his side that when you weren’t there he didn’t know what to do with himself.

So, now he was here with you, he was going to memorise this moment because he realised how easily you could go and leave him behind and he wanted something to remember you by

[roryelijah02]

Carol's hair: a theory and analysis

Warning: there will be mentions of Ed's abuse towards Carol in this post

I will start this post by talking about my inspiration for bringing this topic up and writing this analysis. A few days ago, the character descriptions for The Book Of Carol got released including this one for Carol:

Within it, there are so many wonderful things. Specifically, things about her relationship with Daryl. Not only does it talk about them being bound by one soul (which is such a beautiful analogy and refers to them being soulmates) but it also mentions how he is the only person who she feels truly safe with and it's this point that reminded me of the theory I have surrounding the topic of Carol's hair throughout TWD and inspired me to share my theory in an analytical post for all of you. So, let's get this show on the road.

In season 9 episode 10, Omega, Carol's son Henry has a conversation with Daryl in which he explains that Carol started out with long hair before the apocalypse and the reason she chose to cut her hair in the first place is because her late, abusive husband, Ed, would use it to his advantage and pull at it before throwing or pushing her against a wall or hard surface. This meant that Carol grew afraid of having her hair longer in case anyone else treated her in the same manner. Henry goes on to explain that he feels the reason why she was able to fully grow it out again is because she met Ezekiel, someone who treated her right and finally made her feel safe enough to grow her hair out again, safe in the knowledge that Ezekiel would never hurt her in the way that Ed has.

However, I don't and never have believed that Carol growing her hair out was to do with Ezekiel and this character description only confirms my thoughts and suspicions to me. I have always thought that Carol growing out her hair was down to her one and only safe person, safety net and soulmate: Daryl.

Whilst it remains short, you can see Carol's hair is starting to grow slightly by the beginning of season 3, way earlier than she met Ezekiel. This fits in with Carol starting to grow her hair out because of Daryl because season 3 takes place just after the farm era - where Daryl and Carol started to become closer with him giving her the Cherokee Rose and looking endlessly for her little girl, Sophia.

Even when Carol is married to Ezekiel, she spends the majority of her free time, when she doesn't have obligations and responsibilities at the Kingdom, visiting Daryl at his camp in the woods, making sure he's okay and trying to maintain her strong bond with him.

Something interesting to note is that even after Carol breaks up with Ezekiel in season 9, episode 16, The Storm, she still keeps her hair long because despite Ezekiel not being by her side anymore, her safety net and soulmate, Daryl, still is. He is the one there keeping her from harm, giving her comfort, making sure she's safe, never turning his back on her, never hating her.

So you might be thinking - why does Carol cut her hair again right at the end of the show in the finale? Ask yourself - if Carol feeling safe enough to grow her hair about was really about Ezekeil, why would she wait until the finale of the show to cut it again? Again, I feel that there is a very simple answer to this - it was never about Ezekeil. So, Carol cut her hair again right at the end of the finale - does this mean she doesn't feel safe anymore? The answer to this is yes but why? Think back for a moment - what happens just after Carol cuts her hair again? - Daryl leaves. Obviously, we can’t be sure where abouts in that last year long time jump Daryl decided to leave or when exactly Carol cut her hair but my theory, that to me makes a lot of sense, is that Carol decided to cut her hair again when Daryl decided to leave because her safe person, her safety net, was leaving her and without him there for her, she didn’t feel safe again. That’s not to say that Carol doesn’t in fact keep all of her badass qualities but the one person whom always been there for her (and whom she has been the same for him), the person who is her rock, her confidant, her soulmate - has gone and that leaves her feeling a sense of vulnerability that, in my opinion, she will not get back until they reunite.

The character description above, particularly where it talks about Daryl being the only person to make Carol feel truly safe, only confirmed to me how much my thoughts are likely correct and I love that. I hope you enjoyed my analysis!

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ♟EREBUS: PERSONIFICATION OF DARKNESS 🌑

Author’s note: *put head into hands* Alright, so I may or may not have went off from the usual formula (Do I even have a formula for writing these at this point?) and I think I may have made the primordial demigods here more cryptid cause they’re the literal by-product of primordial beings that are also half-mortal? I won’t be including the usual blurbs at the ending cause all of them are probably pushing the word limit Tumblr has but worry not, I made up for it by putting more storylines into the whole thing. PRIMORDIAL DEMIGODS MASTERLIST: [LINK]

You’re a child of darkness. Quite literally. You were born in darkness and rose out of darkness; figuratively and literally. You were wrapped in the clothes made from darkness, a comfort to you as you were brought into a world with a cycle of light and darkness. You were born almost alongside Nyx’s own demigod, Erebus following Nyx’s example; however while Nyx’s demigod was born from curiosity, Erebus sired a demigod that while he was born alongside Nyx, her own child must have to be with them as well.  

You grew up relatively well and peacefully in the darkness, hidden under Erebus’ cloak of darkness. He showed you his domain of darkness, and the darkest region of the underworld where you saw and learned from the ghosts of the dead. 

One night, you were guided to meet the child of Nyx who is your other half, with Erebus telling you that much like him and Nyx were a pair, the two of you were a pair as well. 

You and the child of Nyx stuck together, with you either leading them somewhere or them following you, or you following them as they went from one place to another. This was true when the child of Nyx was ordered by her mother to join forces with the demigod child of Gaea and Tartarus. You knew the Nyx demigod yearned more for Nyx’s affection so they would follow Nyx’s order, regardless of their own violation and feelings. You decided to follow the Nyx demigod, hoping to protect her from whatever may happen; you only can hope that they would remember they could always hide in the safety of your darkness. 

As you can imagine, you can wield the darkness. It can range from simple shadow traveling to manipulation of it. However, your special trait is that whenever there is darkness, you can wield it; within objects to mould like clay, absorbing it, or even manipulating and peering the darkness within others. You can travel through the darkness but careful walking through it; unlike the shadows who have a tether to the world, the darkness is an entirely different domain. It is unexplorable, hides many things, and can cling to you in ways you will not be able to know.

As a part of Erebus and wearing the cloak of darkness cut from Erebus himself, you can relatively travel through the darkness in most domains (the exception of its opposite like light itself), but be careful in bringing others along with you for they may be lost into the darkness or be affected in the ways. 

You tell this power to the child of Tartarus whose power is similar to you, warning them when you both bring those who don’t belong in the same realms as you do (the other being the child of Nyx). When you warn them of the consequences, you are confused when you see the look of uncertainty and fear on their face, before they ask what happens if someone borrows your cloak of darkness. You mention that it would protect them to a degree but it would be little good if they’ve been already affected by it and continue to pursue it. 

Another ability you may have falls under Erebus’ other domain; the darkest part of the underworld. Many souls end up casted into the darkness for their crimes or end up lost in it. In a sense, you can summon the dead but those especially within those that reside in your godly father’s domain. 

A key feature about you, much like the child of Tartarus, the blacks of your eyes seemingly go forever with how dark it is. However, what different is that light doesn’t seem to touch you in a way like others. When the light touches your hair, it doesn’t shine or change like others do; your shadows seemingly dark than others. Fortunately, people don’t usually notice your shadows too much to see something is odd; and you can play off your hair being dyed which also doesn’t shine or filter light like natural hair does.